


There has to be something

by Taeyn



Series: I have loved the stars too fondly [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Affection, Bonding, Caretaking, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, S3 spoilers, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Trust, Vulnerability, and making it better, emotional reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-11 09:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11711778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeyn/pseuds/Taeyn
Summary: “You thinkyoucan get it to work?” Keith answers scathingly. He grits his teeth as he reaches to the ground, the room swaying in several uncomfortable directions as he stands up.“Nope,” says Lance, shrugs as Keith presses the weapon into his hand. “But if you’re not gonna take a break, I figure you at least have to stop while I try.”-(or, Keith isn’t giving up on Shiro. And Lance isn’t giving up on him.)





	1. there has to be something

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ loosely set during S3, as the search for Shiro continues :'3
> 
> ♡♡ though this fic does finish with a happy ending (lots of team-feels), there was originally supposed to be a few more chapters, hence there are a couple of plot points still left open!! ^^;; I hope it is still enjoyable! <3

There has to be something.

Keith wraps both hands around the black lion’s bayard- _Shiro’s_ bayard- and he waits. Keith reaches for the feeling that awoke his Galran blade- that strange, intangible emotion that first felt like defeat. He reaches through the not-knowing, tries to squash the desperation that threatens to cloud his mind.

If anyone can awaken Shiro’s bayard, it’s him.

And if Keith can unlock the bayard- unlock the last action Shiro took while he was still piloting the black lion…

Maybe he can find him.

Keith is clutching the bayard so tightly that his fingers are going numb. When he tries to loosen his grip, the weapon clatters to the ground.

_Patience,_ Keith wills at himself, but he can already feel his heart racing, heat prickling behind his eyes. Patience, patience, _patience-_

He hears a sharp sob, it echoes in the empty hangar and Keith’s almost shocked to realise the sound came from him.

“You’re part of a team, Shiro,” Keith chokes, the words raw and hollow in his windpipe. Behind him, the crumpled body of the black lion doesn’t move.

“Being in a team means not leaving! And _not leaving anyone behind._ ”

Keith sucks a breath, his knees hit the ground and he’s shaking, a low ringing in his ears. He’s no longer sure whether he’s addressing Shiro or himself.

“ _Show me!_ ” Keith roars at the bayard, a violence to it that frightens him. He can almost _see_ Shiro dip his head, his knowing smile and a heavy hand on his shoulder, Shiro’s voice saying something utterly and infuriatingly understanding, like-

“Uh, so maybe now would be a good time for a break?”

“ _Shiro?_ ”

Keith’s head whips up, he’s blurted out the question before he can stop himself. Standing over him is Lance, his hair ruffled and his eyes wide, his mouth ever so slightly open in an expression Keith takes a second to recognise. And then he does.

And immediately feels a good deal worse.

“Don’t you dare be concerned about me!” Keith spits, he leaps unsteadily to his feet as the tips of his ears flush hot. “I’m not going to get hurt trying to connect with a bayard! Shiro, meanwhile, is _out there,_  in who knows what danger! _He’s_ the one you should be concerned about, instead of, oh, I don’t know, getting your beauty sleep!”

Keith swallows, fiercely swipes the heels of both hands over his cheeks. Now that he’s face to face with Lance, the blue paladin looks the polar opposite of someone who’s ever slept at all, let alone in the past few days. Lance’s normally tanned skin has taken on a distinctly pale hue, darker below his reddened eyes. His brows pinch above his nose, for a moment Lance looks like he’s about to shoot an accusation right back at him.

For a moment, Keith wonders if he deserves it.

Instead, Lance simply holds out his right hand, palm open.

“What?” snaps Keith, the curtness of it manages to cover the fact that his whole body is trembling.

“Bayard,” says Lance, twitches his jaw toward the black bayard lying between them. “I’ll give it a whirl.”

“You think _you_ can get it to work?” Keith answers scathingly. He grits his teeth as he reaches to the ground, the room swaying in several uncomfortable directions as he stands up.

“Nope,” says Lance, shrugs as Keith presses the weapon into his hand. “But if you’re not gonna take a break, I figure you at least have to stop while I try.”

Keith crosses his arms, narrows his eyes. He’s not sure whether he’s angry or grateful or about to be ill, but when he glares at Lance again, the blue paladin has grown surprisingly quiet.

“And you’re right,” Lance says softly, he gives the bayard a couple of test swipes through the air. “If there’s a chance it could give us a clue about Shiro…”

Lance’s mouth hardens, he flinches his head when he can’t finish. Keith feels an ache rise in his throat, the sting slowly fades as he exhales.

Lance closes his eyes and holds the bayard loosely in front of his chest. He’s concentrating, listening for something neither of them can hear.

_Please Shiro,_ Keith wills again, shapes his focus from a call, to a question, to a plea. He stretches out his mind, the way he does to the red lion when he’s in trouble.

_We need you._

_I_ need you.

... I never told you that.

Keith squeezes his eyes tighter, stares out into the dark. He can sense Lance- or rather, the blue lion- they’re flying side by side, stars spattered and flaring as they gain speed. With a jolt, Keith realises he’s no longer seeing the vision through his viewport, but through _Red’s_ eyes. In a single, splintering second, he wonders if this is how Shiro had connected with Black all along.

_Where are you?_

The surge of galaxies brightens and wanes, Keith stumbles as the hangar comes back into focus. Lance looks no less exhausted, his arms drift useless by his sides and his gaze drops down to his boots.

“I’m sorry, Keith,” he mumbles, doesn’t meet Keith’s stare as he hands back the bayard.

“Paladins are supposed to have a connection,” Keith whispers bitterly. “But when I reach for him… there’s just… nothing.”

To Keith’s surprise, Lance leans toward him, makes a clumsy sort of gesture with his hand. His cheeks are wet too, the shadows have deepened below the rims of his eyes. For a moment, Keith feels more than ready to yell at him again. All this time he’d thought Lance was taking it so lightly- his stupid jokes and upbeat suggestions certainly hadn’t suffered in Shiro’s absence, Lance had been grating on his nerves more and more every day.

Had Lance been trying to keep him going the whole time?

“You’re not reaching for him alone,” Lance whispers.

Keith glares at him until his vision blurs over, until his mouth crumples at the corners and he pulls Lance against his chest. They embrace, Keith with one arm and his posture stiff and rigid, Lance flopped into him, sniffling uncontrollably every time Keith rubs his back.

“I’m not reaching far enough,” Keith murmurs.

-


	2. the only place I’ve taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You _feeling bad_ isn’t going to bring anyone back the next time it happens,” says Keith, both fists clenched by his sides. Lance’s gaze drops to his boots.
> 
> “I know,” he says, quieter. “But you yelling at me isn’t going to bring anyone back either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers from here on in! c: this chapter is set after the team return from their mission on the Altean ship (S3E04). I don't think it would've been easy for Keith to come face to face with Sven (not to mention seeing Sven take a direct hit to save Lance), so this focuses on the emotional outfall of that moment.

Keith drags himself back to his quarters, peels his ident card from the inside of his pocket. His uniform is soaked from the storm, his hair plastered to his brow, and-

“Hey,” offers the cadet, smiles and holds out his hand.

“Oh,” says Keith, blinks at the stranger standing in the middle of his room. “Sorry. I must’ve-”

“Oh, no, you’re alright,” the cadet answers swiftly, his smile falling in apology. “My mistake, I didn’t realise they hadn’t told you. That last power surge took out half the cabins in the north unit. I’m your roommate for a week, Takashi Shirogane.”

His hand is still stretched between them, less hopefully when Keith continues to stare in silence. The cadet is at least a head taller than him, broad-shouldered and square-jawed. He’s wearing the fourth year uniform, which explains why Keith’s never seen him in class.

He still looks familiar somehow.

“Or, er, Shiro, that works too,” Shiro continues, clears his throat when Keith remains completely frozen. “Sorry, I know this must be kind of inconvenient-”

“No, it’s fine,” Keith mutters, he suddenly realises where he’s seen Shiro before.

Shiro’s the only cadet to have passed the intergalactic breach simulation. Keith must have seen the recording a dozen times.

“Okay, awesome,” says Shiro, and to Keith’s surprise he looks genuinely relieved. His mouth pulls up at the corner, he quirks an eyebrow and nods toward his extended arm. “So I take it the whole handshake is a no-go then?”

Keith breathes out a laugh, Shiro grins and Keith feels a knot in his stomach loosen. He steps forward, clasps his palm into Shiro’s.

“No, I appreciate it,” says Keith, and he means it. “Meeting people just, uh, I’ve never been very...”

Shiro’s grip is firm and steady, he doesn’t look away as Keith struggles to find the right words.

“I’m Keith,” Keith starts over, meets Shiro’s gaze. “Keith Kogane.”

-

“Keith!” comes a voice, there’s a loud knock and Keith sits bolt upright, sweat drenched through his shirt. “Hey Keith, are you like, sleeping or something, ‘cause I can always come back later if you’re sleeping, just say the word-”

Another second and Keith’s disengaging the door, he seizes Lance by the front of his jacket and wrenches him into the room.

“Ah, okay, hi, so this conversation is _not_ off to a good start-” Lance babbles, raising both palms as Keith him presses him up against the wall.

“Uhm, or it’s off to a very good start, depending which way you-”

Keith abruptly releases Lance’s collar, points his finger toward Lance’s chest instead.

“You,” Keith snaps, their last mission surging back to him quicker than he’d like. “Are supposed to be on the training deck. Learning _focus_.”

“What? I was!” Lance exclaims, his tone as high-pitched as it is confused. “What I do? I was there for hours, I thought you guys must’ve debriefed without me!”

He throws out both hands to emphasise the point, matches Keith’s glare.

“What you did,” Keith says slowly, he swallows so his voice doesn’t shake. “Is almost get yourself killed. And worse, you almost got _Sven_ killed, when _we’re_ supposed to be the ones protecting innocent lives.”

Lance sucks a breath, his eyebrows pinch above the bridge of his nose. He looks annoyed, or indignant, or _defensive_ …

Lance exhales, he wraps his arms around his middle.

...or hurt.

“Look,” Lance mutters, “I feel really bad about that too, okay?”

“You  _feeling bad_ isn’t going to bring anyone back the next time it happens,” says Keith, both fists clenched by his sides. Lance’s gaze drops to his boots.

“I know,” he says, quieter. “But you yelling at me isn’t going to bring anyone back either.”

“ _Don’t-_ ” Keith says warningly, because Shiro’s name is about the last thing he can hear right now.

“I’m not,” Lance says miserably. “I’m just- just-”

He looks everywhere but Keith’s eyes, and Keith wonders how often he’s seen Lance lost for words.

“I’m just _trying_ , okay?” Lance finishes, his jaw clenches and his mouth crumples. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy for you to see Sven. And by the time I was standing outside your door, I figured it would be a better idea to turn around and walk back to mine. But then-”

Lance trails off, his expression unreadable.

“I’m… going to go. Before I make it worse.”

Lance reaches for the door panel and Keith feels a sting in his windpipe, he nearly finds himself sobbing _don’t_ for the second time that night.

“I wish it was me,” is what comes out, and Lance stops, turns around.

“Whatever happened to Shiro, I would’ve taken his place,” Keith manages, the weight of it exploding inside him on every word. “I would’ve saved him. I would’ve taken his place in a second.”

His voice sounds faraway, strangled and hoarse.

“But the only place I’ve taken,” Keith finishes, numb. “Is the one place he deserves.”

Lance’s hand is on his shoulder, Keith leans against him when he feels his balance falter.

“I’m so sorry, Lance,” Keith whispers, forces himself to go on. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on-”

He pauses, blinks. Lance’s eyes have gone wide and his mouth has dropped open.

“Keith,” Lance says seriously. “ _I’m_ sorry, but you’re gonna have to say that again.”

Keith is wiping his nose on his sleeve, his ears are popping and his chest tight.

“...huh?”

“That. What you just said. Again,” Lance clarifies, searches his pockets without luck for a tissue. “I forgot to press record.”

In spite of everything, Keith almost feels himself smile.

“While we’re at it, do you think you could also add, ‘Lance, I was wrong and you were right?'”

“I... am so close to issuing a retraction,” Keith says flatly, but he can’t help a laugh when Lance flails a hand, interrupting.

“How about, ‘Lance, you are _the_ best friend to ever friend, I wish I could shout at you _every_ night, Lance-’”

“I’m going back to bed,” says Keith. When Lance leans smugly against the wall, Keith sighs and throws one of his pillows to the opposite end of the mattress.

“Your socks stay _on,_ ” Keith says pointedly, rolls his eyes as Lance dives exhausted toward the blankets.

They lay for awhile, Lance trying not to fidget and Keith not really minding if he does.

“I was yelling in my sleep, wasn’t I?” Keith murmurs eventually, barely loud enough to hear. “You said you were going to go back to your room, but then…”

In the silence that follows, Lance sips a breath, hesitates.

“It kind of sounded like you were crying,” he says softly. “I figured you might be having a bad dream or something.”

In the dark, Keith’s ceiling almost looks like the one at the Garrison, he can almost imagine the spare bunk next to his.

“Is it Shiro?” asks Lance, then shuffles to sit cross-legged, his voice lowering. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“It’s always Shiro,” Keith whispers, and when he can’t find the words to say thank you, sits up to face him.

“Do you want to tell me?” Lance tries after a moment.

“Do you want to hear?” Keith returns, lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah,” says Lance, and to Keith’s surprise, he reaches out and squeezes Keith’s hand, lets go before Keith can squeeze back. “course I do.”

-


	3. I’ll find you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith blinks. Lance is heavier than he looks, his chest squashed on top of Keith’s, hands tangled at Keith’s wrists. He’s breathing hard, his face torn and stricken, eyes watering and his cheeks flushed pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the last few hours at the castle in the lead-up to finding Shiro :’)

Lance is sprawled in the middle of the AI chamber, his head pops up as Keith walks in.

“No?” Lance ventures, and Keith flinches his head, masks his disappointment with a shrug.

“It was a long shot anyway,” says Keith, but his voice sounds heavy, echoes in the empty space. “Allura said it takes years of interacting with the castle to build an AI profile. Whatever data’s available from Shiro piloting the black lion, it wouldn’t be enough to generate meaningful artificial intelligence.”

Lance hugs his arms over his sleeves, Keith feels cold just looking at him. As much as he wanted to believe there was some way- _any_ way- of talking to Shiro…

Lance sneezes- twice, then several more times- shivers and makes that _no, no, I’m totally and completely fine_ gesture that usually means they’re on the brink of disaster and he’s several seconds from passing out.

Keith sighs.

They’ve been scanning for distress signals for days, Lance keeps taking double shifts because Keith does.

Suddenly, Keith doesn’t need Shiro’s AI to know what Shiro would say.

_You need to be there for the team,_ comes Shiro’s voice, and even in Keith’s head he sounds painfully close. _You need to be strong for them too._

“Let’s grab some food,” Keith says quietly, and Lance blinks in astonishment.

“You know… food,” Keith tries, feels even worse that the suggestion is the last thing Lance expects. “Food goo. We could shape the food goo into burgers or something.”

Lance seems to be trying to decipher whether Keith’s attempting a joke.

“Or… sundaes,” Keith continues, his ears flush uncomfortably warm. “We can squint and pretend it’s melted ice cream.”

“Or radioactive waste!” Lance says enthusiastically, the exhaustion lifting from his features as he grins.

It feels like a win, albeit a small one. Keith walks a few paces toward the door, then turns back when he realises Lance is still at the console.

“You know,” Lance says slowly, one hand drifting toward the AI sensor. “Coran once told me something about this castle, and it really stuck with me.”

Keith tips his head, frowns.

“He said this ship is an embodiment of advanced supernatural technology that can’t be explained by science alone.”

There’s a small silence, Keith tries not to look as unimpressed as he feels.

“I know you don’t want to give up,” Lance murmurs, “and I know there’s every chance this won't work.”

Both his palms are hovering over the sensors, his posture tense and unsure.

“But I’m all in,” Lance finishes, swallows. “...and I’m not going to let you not-try.”

At the same time Keith realises what Lance is about to do, he also realises he’s now out of reach to stop him. He leaps forward as Lance brings down his hands, the AI sensors turn blue and the chamber goes pitch black.

“ _Lance!_ ”

Keith stumbles, hits the ground hard. When he opens his eyes the room is glowing, tiny dots of light rising from the dark.

“Try to think about Shiro!” Lance calls from the console, and Keith scrambles towards him. Whatever risk Lance is taking, he won’t be taking it alone. Keith presses both his hands over Lance’s, the embers around them swell and brighten and pop. There’s a murmur, a blur of colour, and all of a sudden they’re no longer in the AI chamber.

They’re in Lance’s bedroom at the Garrison.

“ _What the quiznak..._ ” Lance whispers, Keith feels a shot of air leave his lungs.

In front of them, Lance, Pidge and Hunk are all sitting in the room.

“Ohh man, that Keith guy totally blitzed our score,” says Hunk, flops across Lance’s bed as Lance shoots him a glare. “I thought we were going to nail it too. We studied. I mean, we studied? Team bonding counts as studying, right?”

“Trying to group-hack the simulator codes does not count as studying,” Pidge confirms, curls up cross-legged on the floor. “Sorry, dude,” they add, when Lance makes an exasperated noise.

“Look, whatever, can we stop talking about it?” says Lance, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Beside him, Keith feels the real Lance flinch, his mouth has pulled down at the corners.

“ _You okay?_ ” whispers Keith, but Lance just keeps staring at the memory of himself, looking more and more ill.

“Yeah, but _how_ did he beat us?” insists Hunk, his mouth scrunches in concentration. “Our strategy was solid. “The flying was solid. The tech was solid. The engineeri-”

“‘cause Keith caught a lucky break already!” Lance explodes, flings up his arms. “Or maybe my flying wasn’t that solid! Are you happy now? Can we drop it?”

“No, your flying was good,” Pidge says slowly, and Keith can tell it’s a genuine assessment. “I mean yeah, we can drop it, but…”

“ _We don’t need to see this,_ ” Real-Lance hisses suddenly, nudges Keith’s elbow. “It’s not helpful. It’s got nothing to do with Shiro.”

But something in Keith’s memory stirs.

“Just a few more seconds…” Keith answers, desperately tries to remember.

“Why do you always get so worked up when we talk about Keith?” Pidge finishes.

“We’re not trying to compare you,” agrees Hunk, looking worried as Lance's face reddens.

“If I had to pick a team, I’d still pick you,” Pidge tries again, gentler.

“We’ll win the next one,” says Hunk, sincere. “Seriously. We can do this.”

“Okay guys, stop. It’s not that,” Lance blurts out, and Keith’s never seen him look more nervous.

_What on earth did he say about me that was so bad?_

“Keith, we need to stop whatever this is _now_ ,” Real-Lance interrupts, and Keith realises he’s gone horribly pale.

“Uhm,” says Lance, takes a deep breath and faces his two teammates. “Alright. The Keith thing. The thing is, er-”

“Now! Keith, _right now!_ ” Real-Lance yells, frantic, but Keith stands still, his hands don’t move from the panel. There’s something, something about that day at the Garrison...

If he can only reach it…

“-agh, well, I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just gonna-”

“ _KEITH!_ ” Real-Lance screams, and the next second Keith finds himself flat on his back, Lance has dived and pinned him to the ground. The room hums, the colours surge and prickle around them, fading into silence. The Garrison is gone.

Keith blinks. Lance is heavier than he looks, his chest squashed on top of Keith’s, hands tangled at Keith’s wrists. He’s breathing hard, his face torn and stricken, eyes watering and his cheeks flushed pink. Before Keith can work out what could possibly make Lance so upset, the memory comes flooding back to him, he sits bolt upright and pushes Lance abruptly to the side.

“ _Lance-_ ” Keith whispers, and Lance covers his face with both hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Lance wails, and completely unexplainably, he sounds close to tears. “Can we please just pretend-”

“-I remember how I beat you in the simulator that day,” Keith finishes, his throat closes and his heart whirs in his chest.

Lance peeks above his fingers.

“…what?” he croaks.

“I kept changing my radar signal,” Keith continues, his breath coming in short sips. “To mimic an enemy fighter. So every time you were on my tail-”

“-I kept thinking I’d lost you,” Lance finishes, and Keith can’t decide whether he looks irritated or relieved. “Well that’s just great, Keith, congratulations, _again_. So glad I could bring back the grand old memories of the good old-”

“What signals haven’t we been scanning for?” Keith says hoarsely, he’s lightheaded, trips as he gets to his feet.

Lance coughs, the shadows on his face darkening as they stare at each other in panic.

“...enemy distress signals?” says Lance, the words barely making a sound. “ _Galra_ distress signals?”

And then they’re running, wild and reckless, Keith’s sprinting toward the black lion with Lance at his side. Their footsteps crash through the halls of the castle, Keith screaming Shiro’s name and Lance bellowing for Hunk and Pidge, until they’re all bolting to the hangars, knowing, trusting, _hoping…_

That it’s not too late.

“Scan for Galra ships,” sobs Keith, his fists are clenched into the black lion’s controls. He grits his teeth, reaches further and further, calms his mind and feels Black racing beneath him. _Focus,_ he tells himself, _focus_ …

“Keith, slow down!” comes a voice through the communicator, it’s one of them, or all of them, Keith can feel his consciousness slipping.

_Hold on, hold on,_ Keith wills, to himself, to the lion, to Shiro…

_I’ll find you._

_Come back to me._

Keith cries out, there’s a thread of light and he can hear Black roaring, louder than ever before.

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, he smiles as the sky turns bright. “I’m here.”

-


	4. so much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro’s grip on the cloth is unsteady, his mouth has pulled crooked with worry and his eyes are dark and damp.
> 
> It’s the sort of expression he doesn’t like anyone to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a happy but emotional reunion ;w;

Keith remembers being pulled from the black lion, Allura lifting him up when his legs collapse beneath him. The next time he wakes, there’s a hand at his brow, water dripping over the swoop of his nose and splattering down his jaw. Shiro’s grip on the cloth is unsteady, his mouth has pulled crooked with worry and his eyes are dark and damp.

It’s the sort of expression he doesn’t like anyone to see.

“Hey,” Keith murmurs huskily. “Shouldn’t you be the one in bed?”

Shiro’s eyes widen, his throat twitches as his lips part on an inhale. For a second his features crumple, eyebrows tipped up in the middle and his mouth slackening as he sips another breath. Then the cloth drops, hits Keith’s lap with a wet splat as Shiro wraps both arms around him, buries his face in Keith’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Shiro whispers, the words dry and rough, gritted through his teeth. “I thought- Keith, I-”

Keith has scrunched both his fists into the back of Shiro’s shirt, feels the taller man’s shoulders jerk as Shiro shakes his head, his breath uneven against Keith’s neck. Keith has never held him so fiercely, Shiro has never felt quite so warm, or so heavy, or so real.

Keith never wants to let go.

“Are you okay?” says Keith, and he no longer cares that his voice trembles, pitches up at the edges. “There’s so much I- I kept telling myself- I almost lost hope, Shiro-”

He’s making no sense but Shiro only hugs tighter, he makes an awful sniffling sound as Keith tangles his fingers in Shiro’s hair.

“Whatever happened, I’m here for you,” Keith manages, breathless, he grazes his thumbs below Shiro’s eyes. Shiro gives a watery smile, and that’s enough to make Keith’s chest seize up all over again.

“I’ll pull through,” Shiro tries to reassure him, but he starts coughing a second later, doubles over as he turns to his side.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” says Keith, he wraps an arm around Shiro’s waist and holds him up till he can breathe.

“-sorry,” Shiro rasps, and Keith reaches for the pouch of water by his bedside. Shiro always did forget his own well-being when one of the team needed him, and Keith suddenly has the sinking feeling this is no exception.

“I’ll grab the rehydration kit,” say Keith, he’s already on his feet as Shiro coughs again. “And nutri-gel. “And then soup, if you can keep it down. Ugh, I’m sitting around telling you how I _missed_ you when you obviously need- when you’re- when-”

“Keith...” Shiro hushes him, and for all his ragged appearance, something in his face softens.

“...I missed you too,” Shiro says quietly. He straightens, tries to look like his old self. “Of all the things that kept me going when- well-”

Keith leans into Shiro one last time, his face pressed against what’s left of Shiro’s shirt. He bites the inside of his cheek in an attempt to pull himself together.

“Just- so much,” Shiro finishes, he squeezes Keith’s arm. For a moment they both look ready to laugh, the sheer relief of it all catching up in a near-nauseating rush.

When Lance, Pidge and Hunk all tumble into the room a second later, Keith is fairly sure they’re no less overwhelmed.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Pidge says hoarsely, darts over to the bed and throws their arms around Shiro’s waist. Lance isn’t far behind, and to Keith’s surprise, he holds out his arms somewhat clumsily, as if at a loss for how to ask for a hug. If Shiro’s surprised he doesn’t show it, he stretches out his non-Galra arm and lets Lance tuck into his shoulder, quiet and shaky.

“Welcome back, man,” says Hunk, he’s gripping a tray of assorted liquids tight enough that it might snap, the glasses wobbling precariously as he tries to set it down gently. He manages a smile when Shiro nods in thanks.

“Just a sec, guys,” says Shiro, carefully pats Lance and Pidge on the back so that they give him some room. When Shiro turns into his arm to cough, Lance throws Keith a concerned grimace.

“Yikes, Shiro, that does _not_ sound good,” Lance mumbles. Hunk offers a new pouch of water, this one mixed with the nutri-gel. Keith’s pretty sure Shiro only agrees to it so that Pidge and Lance might worry less.

“Thanks-” Shiro nods, but he squints uneasily as he swallows. Keith’s gaze shifts to the trash can, but Shiro steels himself and finishes, gives a pained smile.

“I feel... a bit better,” he tries, then looks confused as the rest of the team start grinning, even Keith feels his mouth hitch at one corner.

“Yeah. You… really need to work on that whole lying thing,” Hunk laughs, and the tension eases from Shiro’s posture as he finds himself laughing too.

“Noted,” Shiro says dryly, but he does _look_ a bit better at least, and some of the colour has returned to his face.

“Alright guys, lets clear out and let him sleep,” says Pidge, tugs Lance by the arm when he seems reluctant to leave.

“Yell if you need anything, okay?” says Hunk, keeps rearranging the various drinks by Shiro’s side until Pidge has to pull him away too.

“Shiro…?” says Lance. He hovers in the doorway, runs a hand over his mouth. Shiro moves as if to go to him, but Lance shakes his head, Shiro looks weak enough as it is.

“I just. Um.” Lance clears his throat, tucks his hands below his arms. “Thanks for… making it. Thanks for coming back,” he finishes, swallows a despairing look when the sentiment doesn’t quite come out how he intends.

But Shiro understands, he dips his head, just once.

Lance gives a half-smile, then softly closes the door behind him.

Shiro waits as long as he can as their footsteps fade down the hall, then coughs violently as Keith fetches him a second blanket.

He wonders if Shiro’s going to go back to his actual room, or if he’ll suggest they swap for the night. Keith has no idea how to suggest that he _stays_ , or that he wants him to, or that the thought of being apart again feels like a punch to the stomach.

Keith takes a breath.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he snaps, winces as it comes out like an accusation.

Shiro tries not to smile.

“Neither am I,” he says gently.

-

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading! :'> comments & kudos are always adored and appreciated, or [say hi to me on tumblr~!](http://sillyshiro.tumblr.com/) <3


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